Claimed By My Billionaire Stepbrothers
They say you can't have it all. I'm about to prove them wrong-or destroy myself trying.
When my struggling mother married billionaire Richard Stone, I thought I was gaining a family. Instead, I found three stepbrothers who became my obsession, my downfall, and my salvation.
Dominic, the eldest, cold and commanding, who kisses me like he's claiming his kingdom and looks at me like I'm the only thing he can't control.
Julian, the charming playboy who hides a vulnerable soul beneath his perfect smile, making me feel like I'm the only woman he's ever truly seen.
Asher, the brooding artist who paints me like I'm his muse and touches me like I'm his masterpiece, seeing parts of my soul I didn't know existed.
They're forbidden. They're dangerous. They're everything I shouldn't want.
But when I discover my father didn't die by suicide that he was murdered by the very man who now calls himself my stepfather, these three powerful men becomes my unlikely allies.
First it was a forbidden attraction, now it's an arrangement that defies every rule.
The rules are simple:
I'll give each of them a chance.
I'll take everything they offer.
And in the end, I'll have to make the hardest decision of my life:
Choose one of them. Choose all of them. Or choose myself.
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Chapter 5
Asher moved faster than I thought possible. He was on his feet, positioning himself between me and Julian.
"Get out," Asher said, his voice deadly calm.
Julian's jaw worked. "Are you out of your mind?"
"I said, get out."
"She's going to be our stepsister!"
"I'm aware."
"Then what the hell do you think you're doing?"
Asher's hands clenched. "Nothing you haven't already tried."
The words hung in the air.
Julian's eyes cut to me, and something raw flashed across his face. Hurt. Jealousy. Betrayal.
"I never-" He stopped. "I didn't know who she was."
"Neither did I. Not when it mattered."
"When it-" Julian laughed, bitter. "You painted her three weeks ago, Asher. You knew exactly who she was the moment Father announced his engagement."
My stomach dropped. "You knew?"
Asher turned to me, and the guilt in his eyes confirmed everything.
"You knew," I repeated, my voice rising. "You knew who I was, who my mother was, and you painted me anyway. You let me walk into this room, you told me about my father, you-"
I couldn't finish. My hands shook as I clutched the drop cloth tighter.
"Maya, let me explain."
"Explain what? That you manipulated me? That this was all some kind of game?"
"No." Asher reached for me, but I jerked back. "I didn't plan this. Any of this. I painted you because I couldn't stop thinking about you, and yes, I knew who you were when your mother got engaged, but that didn't change-"
"It changes everything!"
"Does it? Would you rather I'd stayed away? Let you walk through this party alone, let Dominic tear you apart, let Julian charm you with his lies?"
"I met her first," Julian said quietly.
Both Asher and I turned to stare.
Julian's hands were in his pockets, his posture deceptively casual. But his eyes burned.
"I saw her at the coffee shop three weeks ago. Before you painted her. Before you knew anything about her." He looked at me. "I asked you out before I knew who you were. Before I knew your mother was marrying my father."
"And then?" My voice shook. "You knew at the party. You knew when I walked in, and you said nothing."
"What was I supposed to say?" Julian's laugh was self-deprecating. "I panicked. I thought if I stayed away, maybe it would be easier."
"Easier for who?"
"For all of us." He took a step into the room. "But clearly, I'm not the only one who can't stay away."
Asher's jaw tightened. "Julian-"
"Save it." Julian's eyes found mine again, and the heat in them made my breath catch. "I wanted you first. Remember that."
He turned and walked out.
My legs gave out. I sank onto the couch, still wrapped in paint-stained canvas.
Three brothers. I'd kissed-and more-with two of them. In one night.
What was wrong with me?
"Maya." Asher knelt in front of me. "I'm sorry. I should have told you I knew who you were. But everything I said about your father-that's real. And what I feel for you-"
"Don't." I couldn't hear this right now. "Just... don't."
I stood, searching for my dress. Found it crumpled by the easel. The zipper was broken.
Perfect.
"Take my shirt," Asher offered. "It's paint-stained, but-"
"Fine."
I let the drop cloth fall. Asher's sharp intake of breath made me pause.
"I'm sorry," he said again. "Not for what we did. I could never be sorry for that. But for the lies."
I pulled on his shirt. It hung to mid-thigh, covered in blue and gold and crimson smudges.
"My father." I forced the words out. "You said he was investigating corporate fraud. Who?"
"Victor Castellan."
The name meant nothing. "Who is he?"
"Father's biggest rival. They were partners once. Then something went wrong, and they've been at war ever since." Asher gathered the scattered papers, handing them to me. "Your father was Castellan's accountant. He found evidence of money laundering, fraud, bribery. He was going to expose everything."
"And Castellan killed him?"
"I think so. But I can't prove it. Not yet."
I stared at the papers, my father's name jumping out from financial statements.
"Why do you care? About my father, about me, about any of this?"
Asher was quiet for a long moment.
"Because three years ago, I was engaged. Her name was Sophie. She was investigating Castellan too. For a journalism piece. And then her car went off a bridge."
My heart stopped. "Asher-"
"Everyone said it was an accident. But I knew." His hands fisted. "I've been gathering evidence ever since. Your father's case is part of a pattern."
"And my mother married his enemy."
"Yes."
"Does Richard know? About my father?"
"I don't know. Maybe. Probably." Asher met my eyes. "Father doesn't do anything without calculation. If he married your mother, there's a reason."
The implication hit me like a fist.
"My inheritance." The words tasted like ash.
I'd learned about it only last week. A letter from a lawyer, explaining that my grandmother had left me millions. Locked away until I turned twenty-five or married.
"I don't know for sure," Asher said carefully. "But it would make sense."
I laughed, high and brittle. "So my mother is marrying a man who might be using her. I'm about to become stepsiblings with three men I've-" I couldn't finish. "And the man who killed my father is still out there."
"Yes."
At least he was honest.
I gathered my things-my broken dress, my shoes, the folder. "I need to leave."
"Maya-"
"Please." I looked at him. "I need to think. I can't do it here."
Asher nodded slowly. "Okay. But take this." He pulled a phone from his desk drawer. "Burner. My number's already programmed. If you need anything-call me."
I took the phone. Our fingers brushed.
"I meant what I said," Asher whispered. "I see you, Maya. All of you. And I'm not sorry for tonight."
My throat closed. I turned and walked out before I could do something stupid like kiss him again.
The hallway was empty. I made my way down stairs, through corridors that all looked the same.
A door opened ahead.
Dominic stepped out.
He was no longer in his tuxedo jacket, his shirt unbuttoned at the collar, bow tie hanging loose.
His eyes widened when he saw me. Took in Asher's paint-stained shirt, my bare legs, my tangled hair.
His expression went carefully blank.
"Maya."
"Don't." I couldn't handle another confrontation.
But Dominic caught my arm as I tried to pass. "Whose shirt?"
"None of your business."
"Like hell it's not." His grip tightened. "You're wearing Asher's shirt. Which means-"
"Which means nothing."
"Maya-"
I yanked my arm free. "You don't get to kiss me and then act possessive. You don't get to call this a mistake and then demand explanations."
"I never said it was a mistake."
"Yes, you did. In the elevator."
"I said it was a mistake. Not that I regretted it." Dominic stepped closer. "There's a difference."
My breath caught. This close, I could see the stubble on his jaw, smell whiskey on his breath.
"You've been drinking."
"Three glasses. Barely enough to feel." His hand came up, tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. "Tell me you didn't sleep with my brother."
"I don't owe you anything."
"Tell me anyway."
I met his eyes, saw the vulnerability hiding beneath the command.
"I did," I said quietly. "And I'd do it again."
Something flickered across Dominic's face.
"Then you're in more trouble than you know."
He released me and walked away.
I stood frozen, Asher's phone burning a hole in my pocket.
I'd come to this party as the daughter of a woman seeking a better life.
I was leaving as something else entirely.
I turned toward the exit.
My mother stood blocking my path, her face pale, eyes wide with horror.
"Maya," she whispered. "What have you done?"
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8.1
Born into luxury, Hermione Watson-Pierce has always felt like merely a pawn in her parents' ruthless game of power. She learned to suppress her emotions, earning herself the title of the "Ice Queen."
Just then, Aiden Mendes bursts into her life-a charming playboy known for his reckless reputation. Aiden chooses to cope with his inner turmoil through a lavish lifestyle, using his charisma and striking looks to keep others at bay.
A looming threat forces them to face a contracted marriage or risk losing their inheritance. When they first meet, Aiden is struck by an unexpected attraction, as if it were love at first sight. Yet, his notorious reputation precedes him, and Hermione makes no effort to hide her disdain.
As their contractual marriage evolves into a battle of wills, Aiden must work to melt Hermione's icy heart, proving that he is more than what meets the eye. But can he persuade her to rise above her prejudices and bravely pursue love?
7.8
Elie Joyce’s entire life was controlled by Ebert Ewing, a ruthless billionaire who held her sick grandmother's survival and her family's freedom in his hands.
But on a freezing, stormy night, he forced her into a scandalous scrap of red silk and handed her over to a notorious, disgusting predator.
"You aren't an escort. You're just a free gift."
Ebert mocked her, using her as a disposable bargaining chip to secure a corporate funding round.
When the predator humiliated her, forced high-proof vodka down her throat, and violently pinned her to the floor, Ebert simply watched with dead eyes.
And when Ebert finally intervened to brutally beat the man, it wasn't out of mercy.
"She is my property. Even if she is trash that I threw away, a filthy pig like you doesn't get to touch her."
Afterward, he dragged her battered, barefoot body into his car, only to kick her out into the torrential rain, leaving her on the dark streets to die.
Standing in the storm, shivering and bleeding from broken glass, the last shred of Elie's hope shattered.
She had sacrificed her dignity and soul, enduring his violent bites and cruel control, just to keep her family alive.
Why did she have to suffer this endless, twisted humiliation for a psychopath who only saw her as trash?
But she didn't break.
Tearing a strip of his expensive shirt to bandage her bleeding foot, Elie gripped her broken stiletto like a knife.
With her eyes turning cold and calculating, she limped out of the shadows.
She was going to survive, and Ebert Ewing would soon realize she was no longer his obedient prey.
8.5
Synopsis
It still feels so unreal being dumped by my boyfriend at the courtyard on the day of our wedding.
David didn't show up and when I called him to know the reason why.
He told me right to my face that he had found love with another woman who happened to be my best friend.
My heart was shattered into a million tiny pieces.
I was wallowing in self-pity when I overheard Lucas talking on the phone about needing a replacement for the woman who has collected a part-payment to be his wife.
I agreed to be his wife without thinking twice wanting to get back at my Ex.
What would happen when two strangers' hearts intertwined?
And what started as an arrangement became a bedrock for something real?
Read to find out.
7.6
My father raised seven brilliant orphans to be my potential husbands. For years, I only had eyes for one of them, the cold and distant Damien Paul, believing his distance was a wall I just had to break through.
That belief shattered last night when I found him in the garden, kissing his foster sister, Eve—the fragile girl my family took in at his request, the one I had treated like my own sister.
But the true horror came when I overheard the other six Fellows talking in the library.
They weren't competing for me. They were working together, orchestrating "accidents" and mocking my "stupid, blind" devotion to keep me away from Damien.
Their loyalty wasn't to me, the heiress who held their futures in her hands. It was to Eve.
I wasn't a woman to be won. I was a foolish burden to be managed. The seven men I grew up with, the men who owed my family everything, were a cult, and she was their queen.
This morning, I walked into my father's study to make a decision that would burn their world to the ground. He smiled, asking if I'd finally won Damien over.
"No, Dad," I said, my voice firm. "I'm marrying Hunter Beach."
9.6
I was the dedicated, "wolfless" Luna of the Blackwood Pack, bound to Alpha Damien for seven years.
Just three days before our marriage contract expired, Damien burst into my clinic carrying his mistress, Allena.
He used his Alpha Command to clear the room, humiliating me in front of my own medical staff.
The ultrasound revealed Allena was suffering from internal bleeding due to their uncontrolled mating frenzy.
Instead of feeling shame for his weakness, Damien shoved me brutally against a metal counter to protect her.
He threw a $100,000 check at me to buy my silence, treating my broken soul like a cheap transaction.
Later, when I refused to kneel and apologize to his mistress, he pushed me again, shattering my arm against a glass table.
As my blood soaked the pristine white rug, he stood over me, demanding my absolute submission.
He thought I was just a pathetic, weak Omega who would endure his cruelty forever because I had nothing else.
He didn't know that five years ago, after he threatened to kill any pup I bore him, I secretly built a massive offshore empire.
I calmly tied a tourniquet over my bleeding arm and wiped my blood right over his heart.
"I am done with you."
Then I liquidated his thirty-five-million-dollar penthouse assets and walked out into the night, ready to show him who the real monster was.
7.5
I was the architect of my husband's billion-dollar tech empire, but he repaid me by bringing his mistress to our son's funeral-the very woman whose negligence killed him.
To protect her, he had me committed, tortured, and then burned every last memory of our son, systematically erasing our past.
Then I discovered he'd secretly divorced me years ago, so I faked my own death and gave the source code to his rival, ready to watch his world burn to the ground.